


You and Me, Come Whatever

by YokubouNoRain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blindfolds, Captivity, Cutting, Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Fingerfucking, Implied/Referenced Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Non-Consensual Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Non-Consensual Swallowing, King Of Hell Sam Winchester, Knife Play, Knight of Hell Dean Winchester, M/M, Rimming, SPOILERS ON TAGS, Sam Winchester Drinks Demon Blood From Dean Winchester, Sex Pollen, Sexual Slavery, THIS WORK HAS DARK ELEMENTS DONT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THANK YOU VERY MUCH, Torture, bites, dead dove do not eat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-27 15:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YokubouNoRain/pseuds/YokubouNoRain
Summary: After the fight with Metatron and the death of Dean, the older of the Winchester is in the wind with Crowley until the King of Hell himself reaches out Sam to take his brother with him – and Crowley takes the First Blade with him to hide it somewhere safe.Sam uses sanctified blood to get his brother back but the more Dean is becoming human again, the less the devil’s trap works.





	You and Me, Come Whatever

**Author's Note:**

> This was the second fanfic I wrote about this beautiful ship, but I didn’t keep writing until I found [this bang](https://spndarkficbang.tumblr.com/). There are songs’ fragments of two different artists inside the story that are connected with the plot, I hope I could get that right. In the end notes you can find a video to listen the song and, about the last song used, the lyrics in English, since the original song is in Spanish. 
> 
> All my love to my beta, Ai-chan to read this story without knowing sh*t about SPN (but, hey… I made you write something about Wincest) and HistoryMightBeFun for the help with the first draft (I never asked your name ;w;).
> 
> And I could never had this challenge done without the amazing skills of the artist who illustrate for this story :)  
You can see all the work she did for this story [on her Tumblr](https://ncdover.tumblr.com/post/187966193304/art-for-spn-darkfic-bang-written-by-yokubounorain). Thank you very much! We had a lot of issues but we did it :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading the story as I enjoy the writing process.  
Kudos, comments, everything’s welcome

Sam woke up and jolted. One more time. What time was it? Was he still counting the seconds spent over there or had he lost track of time? His eyes were blurry, he took his time to focus on the tiny ray of light from the hallway. He shut his eyes. Again. They were heavy. Again. When he opened his eyes he expected for _him_ to show up through that closed door. He tried to calm his breath down and started thinking about the outcome. How the things were ending up… quite funny. That wasn’t the first time he had to experience Dean’s death. Damn, he had watched Dean dying more than a thousand times but it still hurt like Hell.

Without his brother, Sam experienced the Hell in his flesh; that was even more tortuous than any torment Hell or Heaven would be picked up for him. A life without Dean was… simply unbearable. That’s why he took his dead body on his arms and drove back the way to the bunker with him in the seat next to him in the Impala, his eyes were all watery and blurry, praying to every superior being to be sympathy enough to listen to a Winchester and make his wish a reality, because to have Dean by his side was all that matter to him. Part of his heart was broken, part of his soul died with Dean’s. Just with Dean Sam was complete.

A little spark of hope hit him when Dean wasn’t at the bunker anymore. But he couldn’t find a single clue about his whereabouts except for a handwritten sort-of-goodbye note. He was feeling that with every wasted second, his brother was miles away from him. He knew that Crowley knew something, a friendship –a twisted one- with the King of Hell wasn’t something you can have without giving something in return. Sam would never had accepted something like that if Crowley just had said that Dean would be the one that Sam had to give up. What an innocent thought of him to think that he could actually trust the King of Hell!

Since the very first day, Sam had to step up and keep walking to bring have Dean back to him.

He couldn't think clearly without Dean by his side. Being surrounded just by the silence, the loudly pounding of his heart and his thoughts made Sam realize all the mistakes that he had done. 

Had _he_ used a poor bastard to try to get any clue about Dean? Yes, he had.

Had _he_ tortured a crossroad demon to get some intel? Yes, he had; in vain but he had to.

To be honest, _h_e _could even kill_ if that means to have Dean back; no matter the consequences or the regret afterward. 

“_I am flesh and I am bone_  
Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold  
I've got fire in my soul  
Rise up, ting ting, like glitter  
Like glitter and gold  
Like glitter.”

He leaned his both hands on the sink. The closed tap was still leaking water which he had used to clean the syringes, knives, daggers and other stuff. He watched the clock on the wall. Sam had him captive for more than five hours, pumping blood that he didn’t ask for through his veins. It had been two hours since the roles were switched. His hands grabbed the sink tightly, they were sweaty, hot and his lips curved upwards slowly, sadistic. He took his time to get back to the dungeon. His footsteps echoed through the hallway and each of them took the shape of thoughts in his mind. First thought: teaming up with Crowley to find the First Blade. He licked his lips when he remembered the feel of power in his hands, through his veins. He gulped down a groin of pleasure, a smirk was drawn on his face. Second thought: the victory by killing Abbadon, the sound of the Blade cutting that meat suit in half and maybe in a few parts more, being splattered by the gush of blood without thinking about stopping it. At least until his damn human part of him heard Sam's voice begging him to do it.

_Sam_… 

Third thought: the fight against Metatron. He had thought for a minute that he could actually beat him, that Metatron didn't write the story of his life. And once again Sam was there. Not asking him to stop but wanting to save him -to patch the wound and save him, but it was so deep… he liked it. The feeling of the Angel Blade opening up his flesh and feeling it until his guts.

Fourth thought: it linked with the previous one and something his former self was too weak to say out loud. He liked to be wounded. In fact, he enjoyed to be wounded; and enjoyed the most by giving it with the only purpose of his own satisfaction. That was the reason behind his coming back. When he knocked out Sam he knew that this was the chance he was waiting for, the chance to make Sam paid for what he was doing with him. He suddenly felt dizzy. He took a breath in and out and kept walking towards the dungeon.

He was woken up by the sound of the key unlocking the door. A dark silhouette went through the door and turned on the light that enlightened the dungeon and forced the victim to shut his eyes. His chest was lying on the floor, the same as his knees and legs. His hands were tied up behind his back.

“Hiya, Sammy”, Sam’s body shook because of the dark tune in his voice. The hair on his arms bristled when he felt the cold sharp knife going through his spine from the base of his head to his lower back. “Did you sleep well?”

“Dean, please. Dean.”

Sam’s voice sounded low, begging, about to break out in tears.

“You’re not answering my question”, Dean said going through Sam’s thighs with the cold knife edge.

“Good… My sleeping was good”, Sam muttered.

“Are you ready for the next round?”

From Sam’s perspective, Dean’s eyes were shining too much. The man that Sam knew was still somewhere inside of that one he was looking up to. He wanted so hard to believe that Dean was trying to escape from that cage, but Sam had to wait just a bit longer.

“Please…”

The older one kneeled and took Sam’s chin with the knife edge.

“There are three more hours ahead, Sam. Could you hang on until then?”

“Three hours, for what?”

“I was tied up in this very same place for five hours. When you spend the same amount of time here, I’ll set you free. Until then…” Dean took the human from his handcuffs and forced Sam to sit. Dean’s body went tense when he watched Sam’s torso carved by a sigil to prevent an angel from possessing Sam and ruining his plans. His eyes focused again on Sam’s. His face went closer to him and kissed his lips. When he broke the kiss, Sam tried to avoid a second contact of that kind but Dean grabbed his chin and forced Sam to look up at him. “You’ll be mine until then.”

Sam pursed his lips. Was he pathetic enough to cry in front of this new Dean? Yes, he was. In fact, he was crying.

“Dean… Please… Please…”

Dean realized that Sam was trying to get out from the chains that were restraining him. He stood up and knocked Sam out with the knife. He looked at the younger one when he fell on the floor. He admired his body for a few moments; Sam was taller than him, but yet, his mind was always the one of a young brother, _his_ younger brother, and even when Dean’s humanity was already impossible to get back, what he was doing with Sam already was something that his former self couldn’t bear. He sat down next to Sam and grabbed the syringe he had in the pocket of his pants. He rolled up one of his sleeves and nailed the needle into his vein. He couldn’t put into words what that action made him feel inside. It was like his blood knew where it was going to end. But Dean needed something more. Just a little bit more. He dug his knee into Sam’s right arm -the one that without the sling was laying in a very wrong way next to his own body. That’s it. _That_ was what he needed, the sound of the loudly screaming Sam while Dean nailed down the needle to inject his own blood to Sam.

The same way Sam made Dean suffer before.

No, a thousand ways worse.

At least, until that damn human blood that Sam was pumping into him started to make him struggle.

Dean deprived Sam of the sense of vision with a tie from his human side before getting up and leaving the room falling into the darkness, one more time. He watched the clock. He spent ten minutes there. There were forty minutes left until he could got inside that room again and with a few steps away from it, something inside Dean was already resenting the distance between him and Sam.

_“Do you walk in the valley of kings?_  
Do you walk in the shadow of men  
Who sold their lives to a dream?  
Do you ponder the manner of things  
In the dark  
The dark, the dark, the dark.”

What was changing inside Dean? When Dean had become the man who Sam fell in love without even thinking? He had been heard, he had been reading something about the soul mates, but if that was Cupid’s work… Sam really had some hard work ahead.

No. It if it was the case, Castiel would say something. Maybe his silence every time Sam exchanged accomplice looks with Dean, the way Sam looked up of Dean, the reaction of Sam every time something happened to Dean were a way to say that he already knew about the bond that get the Winchesters together was something beyond reason, something beyond human comprehension but something that an angel did understand without questioning about it.

He spat when he found a salad flavor on his throat that Sam was pretty sure wasn’t his own tears. If someone had told him that Dean would be killed because of Metatron, nothing less than the Scribe of God, that Dean would be the owner of the Mark of Cain and, because of that, his soul would be consumed by the evil inside that damn mark to come back as a demon and Sam would be confined in an apparently endless lock down inside the dungeon of the Men of Letters… he would think that the person had a huge imagination.

But that was his reality, tied up as he was, captive as he was, he couldn’t do anything. His prayers to God, to Castiel, to any of the other angels available miserably failed. Maybe Dean had been putting some protections against them all on his free time between _session_ and _session_. What he was trying to do with all of that? Humiliate him? And what about pumping his own blood inside Sam? Blood infected with demon blood. Was that his goal? To make Sam also into a demon and leave behind his plans to save everyone he could in their monster hunt? Did Dean know that they probably were soul mates and he hadn’t to do what he was doing?

When Zachariah _invited_ them into his fictional world where they weren’t related except for the fact that they were working in the same place, Sam felt a special bond with Dean, and he was sure that Dean also had felt something, too. They never spoke about it again, but something _remains_.

Sam’s thoughts were interrupted because of the sound of the opening of the door. He heard the light switch being turned on but he was still blindfolded. He heard the sound of Dean’s shoes coming closer to him. He felt the hair of his skin bristle because of that closeness. He half-opened his lips when Dean grabbed the tie in order to take it off from Sam.

“It’s okay”, said Sam. Dean hold his movement and didn’t take the tie off.

“’It’s okay’, what?”

“I agree. Whatever you wanna do with me, Dean, I’ll agree with it.”

Dean took off the tie in one go. When Sam got used to the light, he saw Dean’s frown. He seemed surprised and even confused because of Sam’s words. In fact, Sam wasn’t sure anymore what Dean was really thinking. This brand new Dean was someone completely different from the one he knew, but, hell… he has his very same face, his same hands, his same voice. And just because of it, he already love him hard.

“Oh, Sammy. You have no idea what you are saying.”

Again, one hit. Again, the passing out. Again, the releasing of fury on Sam’s broken arm. Would he have done that before? Submitting his baby brother Sammy the way he was doing? Probably not. But now, he had nothing to lose when he was already gone. When he will be done with that, Dean would go away, far away and if he would become human again, a gun could take care of it. Drowning in his memories, he was sure the former Dean couldn’t live with the height of doing something like that to Sam.

The former Dean would have wanted something more private, something more _like him_. And he also knew that the former Dean emanated cowardice, that he was just a scary puppy hiding behind a wall of roughness to avoid talking about his true feelings. Forbidden feelings that were always there and that always seemed to emerge when things went really bad. He injected his blood into Sam’s again. He licked the small wound in the skin. He wasn’t a vampire, but his own blood mixed up with Sam’s tasted damn good.

_“Do you walk in the meadow of spring?_  
Do you talk to the animals?  
Do you hold their lives from a string?  
Do you ponder the manner of things  
In the dark  
The dark, the dark, the dark.”

Dean leaned his body onto Sam’s room door frame. His former self had done some tacit agreement with Sam about the privacy of each one. Which means to not enter into the other’s room without consent except for exceptional cases: non wished angel’s entry, demons, gods, etcetera. Nightmares also fit in that category.

He turned on the light and started to go through the room. It was the same size as his but with fewer furniture, thus it seemed a little bigger. He sat down on the edge of the bed and touched the pillow. He lay down to sniff Sam’s scent, if it was still there. Yes, there it was. Something beyond the carefully picked hair conditioner, something deeper, something that he could only sense. If he lay down his body on the mattress, wouldn’t it feel like he was Sam? Would he feel that Sam was there? He tossed off his shoes, laying down on the pillow and hugging it to sniff like it were a fucking drug and let his imagination do what it want. His former self had been killed to be in his place.

Who could know that there was a perfect shaped torso behind an infinity amount of layers of those terrible plaid shirts that they brought? He had been jerking off a few times before seeing Sam after taking his shower, but to do it on Sam’s bed was something that he had been fantasizing about and he never thought he could get the chance to actually do it. But Sam wasn’t there in that moment. His hands started to touch himself over his own clothes and an abnormal fever made him scream Sam’s name. He wanted for Sam to hear he moans, but he was so far from that room that his moaning was impossible to reach it. Dean made a mess on the bed and he marked it so well that if Sam can get out alive from his prison was sure he would know that Dean was in his room… that the room belongs to Dean… just as Sam.

Shit. He was a demon but he still has a heart –kind of, at least, with Sammy.

One hour passed and he had to go back and take care of his little brother.

He reached down to the dungeon sweating cold. His time was close but so was Sam’s. He grabbed the other syringe and put it into his veins, again. He made Sam look at how deep the needle went inside his body. Dean’s body tensed when he heard Sam screaming. In fact, his body was tense every time he saw Sam, no matter what.

“_'Cause everybody's in the backroom's_  
Spinning up  
Don't know what you're asking for  
And everybody's in the front room's  
Tripping out  
You left your bottle at the door.”

Dean let Sam drink his own blood. His eyes were blurry but he could feel that he got what he wanted, even when Dean was recovering from what he had lost. Hell… The secondary effects. He smiled when he was touching Sam’s hair, Sam’s body curved on his already numb arm; his own body turned on, one more time, because he was submitting his little Sammy.

“Dean”, he moaned, barely looking at him, “let me go.”

Like he was controlled by a spell, Dean did what Sam wanted. He took Sam’s restrains and throw them away. With a single move of one of his hands, Sam pushed Dean against the wall. Dean knew, in that moment, that he had lost the battle, but he got something way better instead.

He didn’t mind being the submissive, being the slave, as long as he was Sam’s. He could see Sam’s eyes pitch black because of the lust and the desire of blood that Dean was pumping in his veins.

“What are you waiting for?”, Dean whispered, “Attack.”

Everything was already so fucked up. Dean was fucked up and he helped to fuck up Sam. God- he loved him. He loved Sam with his whole heart and soul. He wanted to feel it in his body too, the entire urge for Sam had been locking down inside of him… because Dean knew all the time that Sam had feelings for him too. Now there were no boundaries attached to them, not anymore. Now Sam could be free even when that means for Dean to be captive. The sound of Sam's footsteps heading towards Dean made his ears hurt. Even with the poor light inside the dungeon Dean could see his own reflection inside Sam's eyes. He couldn't move. He could feel his clothes being torn apart, he has goosebumps when the heat of Sam's breath hit his skin. He let go a moan.

“You like it”, Sam said in a husky voice. Dean responded him with a smirk. Why deny it now?, “I'm gonna make you regret it. I'll be the only one to enjoy this.”

“Make me.” Dean challenged Sam with a smirk on his face.

Sam cupped the older face on both hands, digging his fingers inside his cheeks and Dean couldn’t but moan and leave his eyes to roll. He never knew he would like something like that. But to be forced and to be hurt so bad… deep down he knew he deserved it- _He deserves it_. He had hurt Sam so many times, so much more than what he was doing with him. Dean felt something on his bare torso.

Sam broke the kiss and he saw his nails scratching his skin, sharp, so dangerously large and when he looked up at Sam he found a smirk of completely lust and passion until Sam decided to go through his skin and let his nails to tore Dean’s skin and let him scream. Sam saw the skin recovered itself after several minutes. Dean was missing his demon juice, he could tell just by seeing his wounds. He let his body met the floor so loud he knew that would hurt later. After Sam tied up his hands, he lifted Dean’s body to let it hanging up in the middle of the dungeon. Dean couldn’t do anything even if he wanted; his tiptoes barely touch the floor, it would take forever for him to escape, he would be insane before to actually get away and maybe that was in Sam’s mind.

“_I am flesh and I am bone_  
Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold  
I've got fire in my soul  
Rise up, ting ting, like glitter  
Like glitter and gold  
Like glitter.”

Dean would never be a fan of bondage or stuff like that. He could barely stand more than five minutes when he was blindfolded and only if there wasn’t any restraints on the other extremities of his body. But to be in the middle of the Men of Letters dungeon, with both hands tied up over his head and his toes barely touching the floor… well… he was starting to like it. Since Sam had been recovering his demonic skills he was watching him, haunting him, breathing on the back of his head.

“Trying to turning me on, maybe?”

Dean was soaking wet because of the sweat from the fever before. The more human he had become, the more he regrets about the Sam he was trying to get in touch with. Damn, he was panting and it wasn’t because of the fever or anything, but it was because of the expectations of Sam’s actions.

Then he felt it. Something more beside the hot breath of Sam on the exposed skin of his neck. Something cold and sharp going down his exposed torso with slow motions, making Dean to breathe heavily, trying to stand still and to not move an inch in order to not get hurt by the weapon that Sam was using on him.

Everything became silent and then the sound of the edge of the blade cutting the air and then the skin from one of his nipples, making Dean scream in agony. Dean knew he had some issues but to feel pleasure when he felt Sam’s tongue around his wounded nipple, sucking and trying to cut more with his own teeth? That was insane but at the same time, yes, Dean was enjoying it, he felt the electricity going down inside him until his groin was feeling uncomfortable inside his jeans.

“You still have some demon juice in you, Dean”, Sam purred, feeling the addiction running through his veins. “It takes some time for the wound to heal but it’s healing”, he added with his other hand playing with the other nipple. “I hope you still have it when I return, if not… This is going to hurt like a son of a bitch.”

Dean’s breath became unsteady when he heard Sam’s footsteps going far from him.

“Sam?” He asked in a low voice. “Sammy!”

Dean called his brother once again, then, again and again, but the door was already closed behind his back and he couldn’t escape from the prison Sam had prepared for him. That was because Sam was way better hunter than him and his manners were way more dangerous than his.

“_Cold as a valley where I lay my head_  
Cold as a woman in another man’s bed  
Down in the forest with the devil in me  
I’ll remember the looks on their faces  
Through the sycamore trees.”

Dean was trying to recall the good times with Sam. The remaining demon blood on his system burning like fire inside his body and he really needed to think about something else. The moments when their father taught them about the skill to hunt almost everything. They started with a bird. It was the mother or the father of a couple of little birds waiting for their food inside a nest which Sam diligently put down on his feet with a single shot. Dean should know by then but he was still pretty young to understand that the smile on Sam’s face was wrong.

Dean should know that by letting Sam keep drinking demon blood when he found him doing that was indeed wrong. What he never knew was that by letting him keep doing those things would end with Sam being capable of doing whatever he wants with or without Dean’s consent. He never wanted to lose his brother. He would do everything to get him back –even die; and if Sam’s choice was to die and to not come back, Dean would die right next to him because a life without Sam wasn’t life anymore.

He cursed his demon part, that new part of him that was dying inside of him, because that evil part became Sam in a version he didn’t like and he didn’t know how to control. His blood reached his head. His whole skull hurt, throbbing, making Dean scream in pain. That feeling was worse than what Sam had in mind to do with him.

He wanted to believe in those words.

“_Run in an alleyway through a dead end street_  
Murdering promises that I just can't keep  
We could sing pretty melodies on the unmade bed  
Slow-dancing to a silhouette 'cause I ain't dead yet.”

Room 28.

It was full of books, spells, ingredients, witchcrafts scrap and oh, so nice tiny little toys for the use of you can and can’t even imagine. Sam knew about all of these but he wanted to keep Dean unaware about his intentions. His thighs and arms were still a little bit sore from pain that Dean infringed on him. He let out a soft moan just recalling all the things Dean had been doing with him before. And Sam was going to make him suffer more. He tasted his own blood off one of his lips because he got so high thinking about it that he bit his lip. Shifting from shelf to shelf, leaving open boxes on the floor he finally got something he thought could be useful.

He felt his pants tightening around his crotch. He hoped Dean like it too. 

“_And we'll chase a fire_  
Come to take me home  
I'm lost in the woods  
And I wander on.”

The dungeon’s door opened again behind his back. Dean’s breath had gone nuts. He bit his lip to hold back a single moan when Sam kissed the neck of his back. Dean shivered because of the cold air from the bunker.

“You know what, Dean? I was thinking, what can I do to make sure if my big brother is feeling okay? I was thinking about some beers, slices of pie and chicks. But then something hit me… You already have something to make you feel good with”, Sam said in dark voice. “Could you please, Dean, ask me what’s that?” He added grabbing Dean’s chin strong with one hand.

“What- What is that, Sammy?”

Sam chuckled and he kissed Dean’s lips. At first, Dean didn’t like it. Not like that. This wasn’t the Sammy he knew, but he yet was giving up second by second. His plump lips were bitten so hard that Dean moaned. Oh, yeah, he moaned. And Sam enjoyed it. Sam forced Dean to open his mouth as wide as he can. Sam wasn’t going to let Dean breathe in order to catch some from Sam’s lungs and hell… Sam was feeling so fucking good. He was stroking his groin on Dean’s legs. The zipper was hurting Dean because of the friction but that also making Dean moaning and melting with pleasure around his cock.

Sam was about to lose all the dirty things he wanted to do with Dean and he wanted Dean to suck his cock so hard that even if he came, Dean will still be begging him to fuck his throat. But Sam didn’t. Sam remembered what he had inside of one of his pocket. Sam took a tiny velvet box from his pants. Although he couldn’t, he took cautious steps away from Dean and opened the box. A shining red dust was there and Sam blew it right through Dean face. Dean inhaled some of it while Sam was pouring a little on top of Dean’s cock.

Then he just waited.

He saw Dean’s expression became painful, his body was trying to get out of that trap even when his wrists were already ripped apart and bleeding. He was panting, muffling some incoherent words and sweating. Sam took a step to Dean and just licked one of his cheeks and there it is, he heard it. A loud freaking “fuck me” moan but he had to be sure. He wanted to make Dean beg for it.

“What?”, Sam asked in such a soft voice.

“I want…”

Dean was whimpering. When Sam got closer to him he saw tears falling from the blindfold that was on his eyes.

“What do you want, big brother? Please, tell me”, Sam tasted him barely touching Dean’s aching cock with his jeans just to make him groan for his own satisfaction.

“I want you… I want you to fuck me…”

Sam knew it. Sam was so excited because he knew Dean’s mind was a fucking mess. He knew the dust that he poured on him was extremely dangerous and act extremely fast. But he wanted to be sure one more time. His own desires to break Dean apart could wait a little longer. Just a little bit longer.

“_Hellfire, hellfire, take my soul_  
I've waited, waited and I'm ready to go  
Mothers, children, lock your doors  
I'm waiting and I'm ready to go.”

First he used his own nails to be sure. Dean bled, it took a bit longer than usual but the wound cicatrized itself in less than a minute. Then he used the demon blade and the result was the same. Sam was already so high because of Dean’s blood, wreaking him such pain to make him lose track of his own mind and realized he had no escape no more, that he belonged to Sam; but he had to wait a little bit for the greater good for both of them.

He took out with his hands the second artifact he extracted from the room on that bunker. It was a sharp conical item with tiny blades around. They looked really sharp so Sam had to be really careful to not cut himself in the process. The former Sam –the human Sam- had read that that item takes the shape of whatever that could fit the cone. He tried with a finger and the object took its shape in an instant. That scared the hell out of Sam. He took it off, the item returned to its normal form and placed it right in front of his twitching and hard manhood. He took a breath, he hoped his game won’t turn sideways. It would be funny to die in a pool of blood of his cock and let Dean rot dying hanging in the air without getting some help from the outside. He let go his breath when the thing took the shape of his cock. It fit so well, like his cock was made to fit in.

Sam wanted to tease Dean for a few minutes. He started by kissing the back of his neck, leaving the mark of his nails all over his back while he went right down Dean’s ass to rub his face on his cheeks. The cries of his name from Dean’s mouth made Sam to chuckle. He grabbed and nipped Dean’s ass to make him scream. He separated his ass roughly, and at the same time, his tongue went inside Dean, feeling his muscles tight around his tongue. But Sam had all the patience of the world to spread Dean’s inside because it was so damn hot to listen to the moaning and crying of his. Then he used his middle finger. One phalanx, then another, then the other to finally touch Dean’s sweet spot that one he wanted to break.

“God…”

“Oh, no. It’s just me”, Sam purred sinking his teeth in the flesh of Dean’s ass to make him scream and his insides tighten. “Dean, I can’t take it anymore”, he whispered in a low voice, his finger moving fast inside and out Dean, then used another one and then another. His tongue was delighted with the blood of his brother and when each healed wound of Dean’s body, Sam opened another one and drank his blood again. Both a panting mess, Dean was still whining and Sam was sitting on the floor, the younger of the Winchesters stood up. Without saying a single word, he fucked Dean all the way through and Dean screamed at the top of his lung out because of the pain of the blade cutting his inside with every thrust of Sam. “Shush, stay calm, big brother”, Sam asked right behind Dean’s ear grabbing his earlobe to suck it. “I love you so much, Dean”, Sam whispered and took Dean’s wounded wrists just to steal a scream from his throat. “You have no idea, my darling big brother”, Dean gasped and curved his lips a little before meeting Sam’s yellow eyes. “Know you will know, Dean. You will know everything I was thinking of building up.”

The color in Sam’s eyes makes Dean feel dizzy. Was he already dying? He didn’t feel that way. It was something deep and warm something locked down in his heart, something he never wanted to say out loud.

“_An eternity_  
I waited for this instant  
And I won’t let it slip  
Among unmoving memories  
Or grazing bullets that kill.”

Dean wanted to say something but nothing but nonsense came out every time he separated his lips. His throat was dry and his head was all fuzzy because of the stuff that Sam had put on him that Dean didn’t know anything about. Plus, his cock was aching like a son of a bitch. It was in need of attention. He didn’t even ask that Sam gave it to him somehow. He felt so much pain because of the thing that Sam was doing inside of him but the dark part of him felt it was so good. Was he fucking moaning? Sure he was. He was even screaming, drowned in an unknown feeling between pain and pleasure that Dean couldn’t escape from.

Dean cried out Sam’s name, feeling his inners going in and out with every thrust from his little brother. His wrists hurt every time Dean felt his insides being cut and healed all at once. Was he still a demon? Maybe from the outside? But what happened on the inside…?

“Sammy… Please, Sammy… I wanna see your face …”

Sam panted, he suddenly stopped all his thrusts and took a long breath. He pulled out his still hard manhood and turned Dean to his back after hearing him complaining. Then he shoved off the tie on Dean’s eyes so he could see him. The smile on Dean’s face and the smile he showed to Sam taking him off guard.

“What?”

“I forgive you”, Dean said panting heavily. “I forgive you for what you did with me and for what you’re about to do and all the crap you’re going to do with this world. But, Sammy, I need you to remember something. I really need to you to treasure these words inside your- whatever you have instead of a heart…”

“Speak.”

“I love you”, Sam’s eyes went wide. He wasn’t expecting something like that, huh? “I really wanted to this thing to be… less like it actually was, but, if you’re about to kill me or I’m about to die somehow, I just- I wanted to you to know that. I always loved you and I never wanted to do all the things that made you cried sometimes. I-”

“_Among cannibals_  
Pain is poison, baby  
And you won’t feel it ‘till the end  
As long as you move slowly  
And you moan the name  
That kills.”

In one minute his wrists, his tights, his insides and his outsides were sore as hell, but the next minute it was all healed and then being ripped apart again. He was still a demon indeed and what was the cost of all of it? To live in a fine line between pain and pleasure forever? He wanted to tell Sam to stop, but the only sounds that came from his throat were just moans and screams, begging for more even when it hurt. Because Sam was the one hurting him, because Dean could bear anything from Sam. 

Even if Sam was his executioner, he could bear even that. Dean felt weak, Sam wasn’t stopping, he didn’t seem to notice or he didn’t even seem to care –Dean chose to believe in the first by heart. He had already told Sam what he was hiding deep down in his heart. Everything will be okay… no matter if he will go to Hell or Heaven.

“_Ah, eat from me, eat from my flesh_  
Ah, among cannibals  
Ah, take your time shredding me apart  
Ah, among cannibals.”

Dean woke up. His head hurt a little and he was quite confused and pretty sure he wasn’t in the bunker anymore. He sat on the big bed with silk sheets and still dizzy he managed to put his shoes and stood. He looked around that room but he didn’t recognize it either. He tried to pick up something he could use as a weapon before to start sniffing around but he couldn’t find anything useful. He took a deep breath and armed just with his fierce and courage he left the room.

He opened the door and found himself in the middle of a huge hallway. His footsteps echoed through the place. He was moving around by instinct and as if it was the right thing to do. He opened the door of the one which seemed to be the main room. When he did it, a bunch of people dressed in suits inside the room looked at him. There was silence and then they kept doing what they were doing. Dean saw him. He saw Sam sat on a freaking throne just on the opposite side of the door and he was just gorgeous. He was dressed in a white suit at the contrary of the people around him. Dean walked toward him and stood in front of him.

“Guthrie”, Sam said looking at a white haired man behind Dean.

“Yes, your Majesty.”

Dean looked at him and the man extended something wrapped by an old piece of clothing. Dean knew it. Dean _felt it_. He took it in his hands and knew what was in there. He took the piece of clothes off to see the First Blade. He barely touched it, he only used his fingertips and yet all his senses became crazy. He took the Blade on his hand and looked at Sam. He seemed to be happy.

“Can you please leave me alone with my brother?” Sam ordered to the people around them. When they were alone he stood and got closer to Dean. “How does it feel?”

“Amazing”, Dean said feeling the height of the Blade. “What is this place? What happened to you?”

“This? This is Hell, Dean. And I, I’m the ruler of Hell. But I don’t want to do it alone, I need you by my side. You were about to become human again but I had to stop, because you see, I can’t rule Hell if you’re not by my side. I want you, even now, being the blood sucker I am, damn, I still need you. So, Dean, would you rule Hell with me?”

Dean looked up at Sam. He felt terror and peace at the same time. In fact, he had a reminiscence of the very first time when he had seen Lucifer wearing Sam to the prom. He knelt, took Sam’s hand and kissed the back gently.

“As I told you once: you and me, come whatever.”

“_An eternity, I waited for this moment._”

**Author's Note:**

> The "first song" you read is Barns Courtney’s [Glitter and Gold](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IrV90gXmOpA); the second is [Hellfire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cpy-FJRplvg) from the same soloist; and the last one is [Entre caníbales](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OEgjtk9r7F0) sung by Soda Stereo, a famous Argentinian band from the mid-80s and 90s. The translation of the song was mine (until I found the video with the lyrics in English you can enjoy by clicking the link; [this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D4hQ0k1aEtE) is the original version of the song).
> 
> Before you say something about it, I usually write when I listen to music, so the most of my fanfiction have songs’ titles.


End file.
